


The Hummingbird in the Flowers

by ActuallyMe



Category: Mabel (Podcast)
Genre: F/F, mature themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 11:14:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13716507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActuallyMe/pseuds/ActuallyMe
Summary: Anna Limon, the girl with the mouth of God, uses that mouth to bring me pleasure so bright, it blinds me. It blinds me.





	The Hummingbird in the Flowers

When she kisses me, I feel the fire in my veins, between my thighs, on my tongue. She kisses me with intent. She kisses me like the world is ending; like it has ended and there’s nothing left but my mouth, my wetness, the last soft part of me. Not that my mouth has ever been anything but sharp from the moment words began to burst from it, but she turns my lips pliable. Anna Limon, the girl with the mouth of God, uses that mouth to bring me pleasure so bright, it blinds me. It blinds me.

I never wanted this, God! I never wanted her to be trapped with me, dead, King-Queen under this goddamn hill. I’m not… I don’t think I’ve ever been quite human, but I’m definitely not now. I’m something else--other, I guess. But this didn’t have to be her fate! Too late for that now. Too late, Mabel, you killed Saint Anna and doomed her to a life with the Folk.

I can’t lie, so know that when I say she is the sun that gives light to my barren moon-self, it is true. When I say that she lights the fire in my soul... She is light. She is warmth, but more than that energy, she has matter; she is flesh and bone and blood. 

When she touches me, she grounds me. When her fingers trail over my belly and my breasts, I forget. I forget Sally and this house and the underside of the hill. I forget everything but how it feels when her fingers play me, an instrument tuned to its mistress’s commands.

I don’t understand. I don’t understand how anyone could not love Anna Limon, with her fierceness, with her self-sacrificial bullshit, and yes she drives me absolutely crazy, but I love her for it.

Before Anna, it had been years, most of my life, since someone loved me. Loved me despite my idiosyncrasies, because of them even. My hardness does not scare her away. My bitterness doesn’t either, and hell, I’m fucking bitter. 

I just want to crawl up inside of her and make her sing with her pretty voice. I want to make her blood boil the way she does mine; I want, I want, I want her. Desire and need make a desperate petitioner of me. I would do anything for her. I would do anything, anything. I wonder if she knows. I wonder if she knows there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.

She kisses me like she knows.


End file.
